Saito glanced out his window, seeing snow lightly falling to the ground. It reminded of him of the day her, his wife, Hanako. The day was fresh in his mind, as though it happened only hours previous. He listened to the crackling fire that heated their small home, keeping them warm.
Hanako buried her face in his chest, getting away from the heat, her face tinted red. Saito held her in his arms lovingly as his mind recalled the day.
She was at his door, standing in the snow as it fell lightly, landing in her brown hair. She was shivering slightly, but greeted him with a small smile and thanks. Saito was confused. He didn’t recall meeting this woman, or ever even seeing her in their village. He let her into his home where she stayed several months.
As the months went by, Saito and Hanako grew closer, and eventually married. Saito was a hunter who sold his earnings for money and food. Hanako was a basket maker who made baskets to sell for the same reasons.
The winter came and past, turning from bitter cold to a pleasant warmth that brought life back to their village. Summer was here once again.
Saito had just gotten back from hunting when he saw Hanako on their patio, singing with birds a lovely chorus of twittering and chirps and the high notes of a soprano. He smiled. “When you sing, everything is beautiful,” he says, sitting next to her.
Hanako turned to him. “If, one day I don’t sound beautiful anymore, would you still love me?”
“Of course,” Saito replied, brushing his fingers against her cheek as he lie in her lap.
A few days later, a neighbor of theirs asked them to help gather vegetables from her garden. They agreed and spent several days doing so. On the last day, as they gathered the vegetables, Saito began to cough up blood. He’d been sick for a while, choosing to hide this small fact from Hanako.
Hanako, worried for her husband, quickly managed to get him home and resting. He was very sick, and the medicine he required was expensive, but she was more than willing to do what she thought necessary to save him.
“I'm going to help you get better, my love. I promise,” Hanako says, gently setting a wet towel on his head to keep him cool.
Hanako nodded to herself. She knew she had to do it. She had to act quickly to save him. She walked to the sewing room quickly. She took a deep breath before making a final decision to help her husband.
Months passed. Saito slowly healed. He noticed Hanako’s hands and arms wrapped in bandages that she tried to hide under the long sleeves of her kimono. He gripped her damaged hand in his. “You hold beauty in your fingertips,” he says gently.
“If, one day, my hands have lost their glow, would you still love me? Even if I couldn’t weave anymore?” she asked, feeling his ice-cold hands through the bandages on her.
“Of course,” Saito replied, coughing into his sleeve.
More time passed. Hanako was steadily growing weary as she spent days on end weaving baskets to get money for Saito’s medicine. She was running herself ragged trying to cure him. She soon found that she didn’t care for anything to happen to her as long as Saito was okay. No matter how much pain she in, she would keep weaving until he was better.
“If the day comes where I am no longer human, would you even love me?” she quietly asked as the last feather fell to the ground.
She felt arms wrap around her slender frame. “But of course,” Saito whispers, picking up her bandaged hands and the feather. “Without wings, I’ll love you even more. You flew so beautifully on that day. I'll remember you forever, how you spread your wings and soared. As always, I’ll love you for forever, ‘til the end. I’ll love you as before.”
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